The Seeker Familiar
by Delfador999
Summary: At the verge of madness, he dared to access all the forbidden knowledge locked inside the Archives. Some might've called it foolish, but this Seeker found it enthralling. By a twist of fate, though, he won't end up losing his mind... What wonders await him, in a land where sorcerers are as common as hollows are in Lordran?
1. Secret Library

He'd spent what felt like ages in that secret library. Surrounded by books he had already read more than thrice, he had started to feel uneasy. Wasn't knowledge a good thing? Wasn't curiosity the main attribute that drives adventure? He started questioning his own principles a couple of days ago, when he woke up half naked up in the attic. Was he going hollow...?

The click of a lever brought him out of his thoughts, followed up by the wall bumping into one of the bookshelves to make an entrance. He slowly reached for his catalyst, without getting up from the floor. This was not the first time one of those crystal hollows accidentally turned itself into an intruder by finding the secret passage...

"Oh, hey Logan". He sighed in relief as the Chosen Undead made his way into his shelter, but tightened his grip on his catalyst for some reason..."Oh, there you are, it has been a while. Or were you just here? This fascinating place defeats my sense of time…", Logan let out a small laugh at the end, but it wasn't very convincing.

The Undead showed a look of concern from behind his helmet. He hadn't seen the old man since he had freed him from his cage at the beggining of the Archives, just like the first time. He had met him back at Sen's Fortress, and in exchange for his help, Logan promised to teach him sorceries. But when he went back to Firelink Shrine and found him sitting next to Griggs...

«Hello there. I was expecting you. As promised, I will share my sorceries.

…I am afraid that you are unable to learn sorcery. The basic framework, you see. It cannot be taught. Oh, do not fret. Life isn't all about sorcery. You will find your own way. Don't frown with regret; peer forward with your head held high.»

Since then, he hadn't much interaction with him, aside from a greeting everytime he came back from killing a boss and the ocassional conversation. But he'd grown to appreciate his advice, and his tales. Logan was originally a Master back at the Dragon School of Vinheim, the most renowned sorcerer across the land. Eventually he decided to become an undead willingly, so he could travel to the land of the ancient lords and visit the Duke's Archives; where Seath, the father of sorcery, stored all his knowledge and forbidden spells.

And there he was, with his objective fulfilled. Logan was absorbing all the content of these ancient books that surrounded him, and he couldn't be more happy. But time passed, and the Chosen Undead knew one thing...

He had learned the hard way that, everytime one of his friends fulfilled their purpouse, they had nothing left to be undead for. So in time they became hollow. No matter if they had totally lost hope or reached their mission's end with joy... The Curse always took them away from him.

Laurentius, Rhea, the Crestfallen Warrior, Siegmeyer... Solaire...

"You have been silent for a while, friend. What's the matter? Is something about your mission bothering you?" Logan said, laughing it off as usual. The Chosen Undead being submerged deep in thought was normal, as he was not much of a talker.

"It's nothing, master Logan. I'm fine. I've come to ask you a question about Seath."

"Oh, and what might it be? The secret of the Duke's inmortality? If it's sorcery you know I can't do much for you... but I'll try!" Logan continued, somewhat sarcastic. The Undead did not speak a word...

"Oh... I see. So it's just that, isn't it? One should be careful with what to joke about, I guess..."

An awkward silence established itself in the room, leaving the two silent for a few minutes. Then Logan decided to speak again, after having carefully thought about his answer.

"You see, I know that you want to kill Seath. I know that you must, as it is the last lord you have to slay before putting an end to your quest. No matter how much it pains me to do this, you saved my life twice and I couldn't find a way to return you the favour until now. If you have fought him, and were imprisoned, you must know that Seath is a true Undead, different from ourselves. His wounds close promptly and no mortal blow affects him, granting true insulation from death. It is an effect of the Primordial Crystal, a sacred treasure pillaged by Seath when he turned upon the ancient dragons. So, only by destroying the Primordial Crystal can you so much as scratch his hide. And it so happens, the primordial Crystal is in the inner garden of these very archives, the Crystal Forest."

Logan pointed at the stairs, which went down to the garden he just mentioned. "Thank you." muttered the Undead, who left without even bidding farewell. Logan sighed deeply in resignation.

"Heavens… the folly of youth. I'm too old for this." he said, a sardonic smile forming in his face.

He stood up from the cold stone floor which he was sitting on, with his catalyst firmly gripped in his right hand. He had new spells to practice, and couldn't allow himself to be distracted from his duties. «Let's see this so called 'portal spell'...» he thought, grabbing one of the dusty books from a pile in the corner and passing its pages swiftly. But then he heard the sound of glass echoing downstairs, as if someone had placed a crystal substance on the floor in their way out.

Deeply intrigued by it, Logan dropped the book back in the pile and stealthily approached the exit. He went downstairs slowly, and casted a light spell. The first thing he saw, apart from the corpse of a crystal hollow; was a bright, broad greatsword short enough for him to carry, made from a translucid material which emitted an eerie glow that similar of moonlight...


	2. The Incantation

Sparkles and bolts would come out of his catalyst, but to no avail. He tried tirelessly, time and time again, but he just couldn't imitate the ritual described in the book that accurately. His tired back went searching for a place to lean against, so he threw away his catalyst with a little disdain and supported himself on the Undead's glossy present.

He placed both of his hands on top of the hilt, helping him to sit down. He often found himself lost in the blade's odd reflectiveness. How he could see himself mirrored in the broad surface of the greatsword; although distorted, helped to maintain his sanity in some way. He didn't have a clear notion of time while submerged in the piles of books and experiments he practiced hourly inside that chamber. Sometimes he obtained results and improved already existing sorceries using the crystal magic from Seath (Homing Crystal Soulmass, Crystal Soul Spear, White Dragon Breath...) and sometimes he got lucky and created new spells, so that kept him going.

Examples were spells that were not meant for combat, more oriented towards utility. He had heard rumours about sorcerers from an ancient land called Oolacile to have developed this type of spells long eras past. If the rumours were true or not, it mattered not for him, as he had developed only in a few weeks of studying the numerous passages written in the books of the Archives spells of a similar caliber, if not better versions of those forgotten in time. Casting light as in a spherical hovering ball, projectile or aura of effect; making one's body invisible at plain sight as well as one's weapons, turning into common daily life objects such as pots or chairs; grabbing, throwing and making objects levitate at one's will with only a catalyst and the power of the mind...

He also learned about the Abyss and its magical properties, but dared not to immerse himself too much on the matter. Something about the few dark sorceries he had developed unsettled him, as if the magic contained in humanity could turn against the caster in the blink of an eye. He would use them as a last resort, the ones he could actually control, such as barrages of dark projectiles and floating pursuers made out of humanity that traced their opponent to death. Also some sort of variant within the type, which he called hexes; dragged power from the souls one adquired defeating his enemies... Extremely powerful depending on the caster's 'kill counter'.

Whether be humanity or soul power, those were the only elements he could take advantage of. He considered pyromancy (although not as radically as the scholars back at Vinheim) a little dangerous for its chaotic nature and a discredited practice as it was not based on one's intelligence, rather in other more primal emotions like fear or anger. «I rather not get myself into matters of witchery, I'm too old to risk burning my hat again», he found that thought amusing, as it remembered him of his youth at the Dragon School. But, as curious as he always had been, he fetched a pyromancy glove from young Laurentius back at Firelink just in case. He expected the Great Swamp's exile to be rather reluctant to teach him, as he was one member of the kind of people that often marginalized them for using the flame as a source of power, but as a fellow undead and a respected elder he found it easier than expected to ask him for one and actually succeeding.

Needless to say, he never made any further progress with it apart from Laurentius basic teachings. Conjuring a small firebolt as a projectile and being capable of combust a target at melee range was more than enough he could do with the flame. He was thankful, at least learning about pyromancy was ticked off of his bucket list. Perhaps in the future, he would be able to visit Izalith and truly search deep into its origins... But there he was again.

Despite his old physique, his mind had never stopped adventuring like a teenager. He tended to think of the future, even if it was nearer than he thought. Now that he was an undead, he wasn't capable of aging... But everytime he finished reading a book of the Archive, he felt emptier.

He felt hollowness closer to him each time. He didn't know why, but he certainly felt it. His own soul starting to crave others'. Nothing made him more afraid than the thought of losing his mind completely. He wanted to discover, to travel, to seek. He was a self proclaimed Seeker, after all. Why was his time shortening, if his hope was far from being lost? Was that the backlash of the curse?

No. He couldn't hollow. Not there. Trapped in a giant library, surrounded by the duke's mad experiments. He was destined to see new lands. New worlds. Knowledge was his weapon and wisdom his limitless frontier. Death was unconceivable within undeath, why would he fear anything?

He was a seeker. Seeker Logan of the Dragon School of Vinheim, Elder Master of Sorcery. That was him, and not an empty husk wandering mindlessly in the hallways of an Anor Londo's annex, just like the other hollows. He grabbed his newfound Moonlight Greatsword, gifted to him by the chosen undead no less, leaning its blunt edge on his right shoulder. He then grabbed his catalyst, Logan's own staff, with his free hand. Gripping it tightly, he shouted the words of the ritual with courage, and they echoed throughout all the corridors of the archives.

"Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet! Consectetur adipiscing elit! Sed eiusmod tempor incidunt ut labore! Et dolore magna aliqua!"

A strange, green-glowing spherical portal appeared in front of him after he had finished the chanting. With a determined look in his eyes, them covered by his Big Hat, he stepped in the portal as he dissappeared gradually; not without screaming one last thing.

"Halkeginia, promised land of magic! I, Seeker Logan, will unravel all your arcanes!"

And thus, he was gone.

* * *

 **A** **uthor's Note:**

 **Hey, readers! I will be honored if you posted reviews on my work. It will help me improve my writing, as English is not my first language! :D  
I'll try to answer the ones I think everyone would wanna see in this section below the main chapter, as well as add any clarification or detail about the story of my own. For example, if you have doubts about Logan's magical capabilities in a technical point of view regarding the lore, how would they function in Zero no Tsukaima's setting... And that type of discussion in general, which for me is the most fun about writing fanfiction.**

 **Nothing more to say on the matter, I'll try to update the story when I have the time required available (I'll go faster if i see you guys' responses are proportionally passionate in regards to my work)**

 **See ya! :)**


	3. The Arrival

All the 2nd grade students at Tristein's academy of magic were gathered up in the courtyard, guided by Professor Colbert, to perform the familiar summoning ritual. Familiars were companions such as animals or beasts which would serve them the rest of their lives as mages once summoned, and thus it was a sacred practice; laid for the first time by no less than the Founder Brimir.

"Louise, it's your turn", said Kirche mockingly, expecting her rival to cause another explosion that would end up with no familiar summoned whatsoever. Louise frowned in response, and rose her wand in the air. "My sacred, beautiful, powerful familiar! Please, answer my call!"

Before one student could even get confused about her strange wording of the incantation, the expected explosion came with a lot of smoke following it up. Colbert coughed, and wiped his glasses to see if the pinkette had succeeded in summoning a creature despite the blast.

Nope, nothing in sight. The smoke had already cleared up, but there wasn't a familiar anywhere around. The students started laughing again, pointing at the 'Zero' and mocking her worthlessness.

Louise did her best to avoid getting angered by the group of students making fun of her, and asked Mr. Colbert if she could perform the ritual again. "Maybe I made a mistake... May I try again, professor?" The man looked troubled. "I... Louise, the ritual is sacred... I cannot let you do it again. If the founder has decided to... leave you without a familiar, then..."

Louise felt small tears forming in her eyes. She had failed again. She would be expelled from the academy, and disowned by her parents. This was the last humilliation that her family would tolerate from her behalf. As soon as the first tear dropped across her cheek, a really loud static noise was heard behind the group. The chuckles and insults were cut off inmediately, as a greenish portal opened just so Colbert could see it clearly. It seemed alien and emitted a very annoying glow that blinded the students who were closer to the thing.

Suddenly, an arm popped out of it. Then a leg did. And then the entire body of a man dressed in brown robes and an obnoxiously large hat on his head stepped out of the portal. The students were in shock, glaring at the figure with their jaws dropped and their eyes wide open.

"Whoops, I should've paid more attention at the concealing and whatnot. Seems like half of the population of this new land just witnessed my unfortunate arrival." Logan laughed, dragging the edge of his hat up so he could observe better his surroundings. "Well, I guess it can't be helped!"

Logan advanced through the crowd as the silent students instinctively stepped back from him, leaving Colbert just in front of him. He asked the professor for specifics of his destination, as he seemed to be somewhat of an authority amongst the others. It didn't surprise him, the fact that he was given no response was to be expected. Obviously the language would be a clear difference between this new place and Lordran. He tried speaking to him in other three dialects and never did he got a response, just a confused face from the bald man everytime.

Louise approached him with caution and, curiosity flickering inside her eyes, she asked. "Are you my familiar, ...sir?" He had the appearance of an old man in his late fifties, so she decided to refer to him as expected from a younger person to a stranger.

Logan noticed the little pink haired girl drawing near, and felt a question pitch in the tone of her voice. He shrugged as to let know the teen he didn't understand what she was saying. Then he had an idea. What if the writing system in this land was at least similar to that of Vinheim? He was aware that the bald man he was trying to communicate with earlier held a staff, which would label him as a sorcerer in the mind of any reasonable person. He took out a piece of parchment from one of his satchels, and with an orange soapstone he simply wrote: 'Logan'.

"Is that your name?" guessed the girl, who couldn't read what the man had just written on the paper.

Colbert remained scatterbrained by the sudden event, and so he forgot about everything regarding the completion of the summoning ritual. He was deeply puzzled by this man, thus became his priority to understand his words. He started to cast a traduction spell on him, rising his staff slightly from the grass.

Logan got a little nervous, and reached in his bag for his catalyst just in case the man decided to act hostile. After a few seconds, the spell entered the sorcerer's mouth and ears like a gust of wind, and he began to understand the words of the professor who was offering him now a friendly smile. "Can you understand me now?", the bald man worded the sentence slowly, as to make sure the message was being transmitted succesfully.

"I would say so, yes. I don't know how or what you casted on me, but I must say you've made me really curious now..." Logan shoved the paper back clumsily in his robe's pockets, and took his right glove off, offering a handshake to the professor. "My name is Logan, it's always a pleasure."

Colbert returned the greeting, comically avoiding Logan's exaggerated headpiece. "Jean Colbert, the pleasure is mine."

The students started gossiping again, muttering questions about... Louise's new familiar? No, it couldn't be. He had not appeared when she invoked him, he rather did it on his own. Familiars didn't come out of portals like that. Louise started to feel a little bothered by her classmates constant chatting, so she suggested the professor to leave the formalities for later. Colbert nodded, dismissing them back to their bedrooms so they could have the rest of the day free.

"Dusk is approaching, so I'm afraid we should let questions wait until tomorrow. Meanwhile, would you mind staying at Louise's room? I must talk with the servants, so they can provide you with one of your own." Logan chuckled. "Thank you kindly, but I do not have the need to rest. I'll prefer if you could facilitate me some kind of manuscript, so I may identify your language and perhaps learn a few things about this place."

Both the professor and the pinkette blinked at his response, surprised. It was rude to deny hospitality to a newcomer, but something suggested them, maybe the way he emphazised the word "need", that he really didn't want a room to pass the night. So Colbert nervously answered, "I... I think I've got a basic history book that I left on my desk. May I go and get it for you, if that's what you're asking?" Logan nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, and one last thing... If you could do me a favor and tell me where I am at the moment, I would be really thankful."

"You're at Tristein's academy of magic, in Halkeginia.", answered Louise, who was starting to question the old man's sanity. Perhaps he had memory loss caused by age. How could he not know where he was? He had just arrived through a portal, so that should've meant he knew where it led beforehand. Logan's faced brightened with a confident smirk, just after Colbert had brought him a small book with leather covers, and thanked the duo repeatedly before bidding them farewell and passing through the portal once again. A couple of seconds later, the portal was also gone.

The bald professor and Louise looked at eachother in disbelief. Did what just happened, actually happen? Too tired to deal with extradimensional matters, both of them waved goodbye to eachother and retired themselves to their respective bedrooms; hoping that tomorrow they'd see the mysterious old man again so they could settle this unresolved familiar subject.


	4. Student, Relative or Familiar?

When Logan arrived at the Archives, he found something more than the pile of books and the sword that he'd left behind. He honestly wasn't sure if he'd come back after crossing the portal, but chances allowed him to go back just in time before the spell ended, so it was worth the risk. More than that, he was confident of his sorcery skills, so an extra sword wouldn't have been missed by him at all.

Now that he was back, he spent what felt like days trying to memorize the runic alphabet, and another couple of hours to transcribe the book from Halkeginian to Vinheim's dragon language. He later discovered that, actually, Lordran's tongue and the new language had a lot in common, at least in regards of syntax. The fluency would come in time, but at least he could put together a work-in-progress dictionary, so he could translate further manuscripts. Also, he pondered a lot on the spell that Colbert had casted on him so the oral part of the language was available for him. He found it truly intriguing.

"Well, I guess is time to go back to this so called academy of magic. I could use some of the knowledge available there, if I could gain access to the lectures of common students. Certainly, I've become quite proficient with this gateway-producing sorcery!" He smirked, proud of his latest achievements. This time, he fetched a bandolier more fitting for his books, as he stored in it the book the professor had given to him and his prototype dictionary along with colored varied soapstones and abundant quantities of parchment. He was set up and ready to make his way into the portal again... Oh, he almost forgot!

He wrote down the long verse of the incantation necessary to open the portal, with indications on how to specify its destination. If he would lose it by any chance, it would be almost impossible for him to remember the spell. Although his intellect was intact, his memory was a shadow of what had been in his freshman years at the Dragon School. Also, the wording for the ritual was extense and of a difficult pronunciation. Nonetheless, it'd be safe underneath his Big Hat.

He adjusted his handbag, making him feel nostalgic as it remembered him of his student years. It was as if he'd shrinked into a younger version of himself, just by getting excited for attending to class once again! The once long distant feeling of youth enveloped him for a while, just as he stepped back into a brand new portal. This was the most exciting thing he had done in the recent years, apart from discovering crystal soul magic! He was not planning to be arrogant and all that, but he'd show off his wit just like the old days, for fun's sake.

Ah, it was good to be 'young' again!

* * *

Louise spent the next four days wondering about the man with the big hat. She was enduring all her classmate's constant scoffing pretty well, or at least that she thought. She was convinced the old man was meant to be her familiar... somehow. At that time, because of the shocking events, neither Colbert nor her remembered to fulfill the contract. She had to complete the ritual by kissing him, right? Although Louise wasn't very fond of the thought of kissing an old man... Sure she was fine with Wardes when she was a child, but the age gap had never been so... large. But she had to psych up for the situation, the completion of the contract was mandatory, as Brimir had established it in his days; and that left no room for hesitation.

And then, there was the Familiar festival around the corner, too. Three weeks to go, and if she won't had the contract issue solved by that time, she would embarrass herself in front of everyone else. She couldn't allow that to happen, if she valued her pride as a noble that much. The man wasn't a dragon or a griffin, but she supposed it was better than nothing. Also... was he a noble or a commoner? He wore a strange attire, but if she had to decide between the two she'd bet for him being a part of nobility. Those robes were too extravagant to be owned by a servant or a low-class citizen. Perhaps he was neither a plebeian nor a noble, and he could be a traveller from the far lands much past that of the elves. That'd explain his peculiar way of speech and handwriting.

Either way, she was very confused, with only one clear thought in mind. She had to convince him somehow to be her familiar, as she couldn't just continue pretending being a real mage without one. In time her parents would find out and stop paying her stay at the academy. It didn't matter if he was willingly summoned by her or not: she had to make him her familiar at any cost.

A knock in her bedroom's door brought her out of her thoughts. She opened it only to find a blond slim figure with a rose kept between his lips she knew very well. Guiche removed the flower from his mouth and talked to her with that haughty tone particular of his. "Valliere, headmaster Osmond is calling you to his office. I only hope that the subject he wishes to discuss with you is your suspension... remember that just the other day you blew up Ms. Chevreuse's classroom..."

With a smug smile, he left before Louise could unleash her anger on him. The bastard could've brought the message without needing to insult her. She had to prove herself to the others, so they'd stop embarrasing her family's honour and ceased to call her the 'Zero' once and for all. With gritted teeth and a clenched fist, she walked off her fury as she went to the headmaster's office.

* * *

"Mr. Colbert... What you are telling me right now is impossible. Are you sure you weren't seeing things after the explosion?" The headmaster looked at the professor with a raised eyebrow, in sign of disbelief. "I'm sure, Osmond, I saw what I saw. That man popped out of a portal of some sort, and entered in it again a while after, leaving no trace whatsoever. He just vanished right before my eyes!"

The old man sat back in his chair, stroking his long grey beard. He was astonished. If what Colbert was saying was indeed true, then they'd have to keep it a secret. The academy couldn't afford to lose reputation, being investigated by the council and interrogated was the least they would receive from Tristein's higher nobility. He had to conceal his arrival, although it'd be difficult considering all the second year stundents that witnessed it. And what better way to do it, than...

A subtle knock in the door broke the silence that had established itself in the room. Colbert opened it, letting a small pink-haired girl through. "Ah, Miss Valliere, we were waiting for you. Come on, take a seat." the headmaster offered, pointing at a spare chair in front of the wide desk. The girl sat down, much more calm than when she was informed of the headmaster's request to see him at his office. She was curious now, more than anything. "May I ask what the purpouse of my presence here is, headmaster?"

"Well... You see, a few days ago, at the familiar summoning ritual..." This was it. She was done for. Guiche had been right, the reason of this all was her expulsion from the academy. She began to feel nervous, trying in vain to control her hands twitching and fidgeting in her lap, stopping to pay attention at the old man's words. She had failed for the last time, the consequences were going to be serious...

"So we must ask of you, Louise... Would you pass up this 'Logan' as one of your relatives? I know this is difficult, but in case he's a noble, telling everyone that he's your familiar would grab too much attention. Besides, we want you to watch over him. We're not sure if he'd cause any scandal, him supposedly being from another dimension taken into account, we won't know how he'd react to certain things. I entrust this task to you, and please inform us if he does anything out of the ordinary."

Louise sighed, as she heard the conclusion of the headmaster. She hadn't listened very well to Osmond's words, but she'd heard the last part, which left her with a great sense of relief. At the end, she wasn't going to be expelled. She left the room soon after, not beggining to realize what entailed the task that had been just given to her. Well, not entirely.


End file.
